


The Lesson

by woodelf



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Chip the Horse, F/M, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Putting Your Sports Equipment to Fun New Uses In The Bedroom, Riding Crops, Rumbelling the Olympics, Showjumper!Belle
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-29
Updated: 2020-03-29
Packaged: 2021-03-01 03:00:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,018
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23378038
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/woodelf/pseuds/woodelf
Summary: Disappointed by not making it through to the second round qualifiers in showjumping at the Olympics, Belle needs a distraction. Her boyfriend and chef d'equipe Ian Gold is there to provide one and teach her a lesson in focus.
Relationships: Belle/Rumplestiltskin | Mr. Gold
Comments: 6
Kudos: 22





	The Lesson

Ian Gold, chef d’equipe of the Australian showjumping team, made his final round of the night before heading to bed, making sure that everything was in order. The stables were mostly deserted, but he saw a light on in the area where his team’s horses were housed. Investigating, he found Belle French in her horse’s stall, running a soft brush over Chippendale Z and murmuring softly to him. The nine year old Holsteiner stallion looked half asleep, his dark brown coat as glossy as a finely polished piece of the style of furniture he’d been named after. At least Gold thought he’d been named after the style of furniture; it could just as well have been after the troupe of male strippers for all he knew. It was something over which he preferred to remain in willful ignorance. 

Chip towered over Belle; her head didn’t even come up to his withers. Gold knew that some people were surprised that such a petite rider should choose a stallion to ride, but they had clicked instantly, Chip one of those horses that responded better to a light hand on the reins than a strong one, and was unfailingly good-natured as long as he was given enough to do to burn off his energy. He liked to run fast and jump high, although sometimes that came at the expense of carefulness.

“You’re up late,” Gold said softly, so as not to startle her or the other horses drowsing in their stalls. For many riders, the Olympics had ended today after the first round qualifiers in the individual medal competition. Only the best moved on to the second round tomorrow. This year, Belle wasn’t one of them.

Belle looked around, feeling the familiar flutter in the pit of her stomach. There was no earthly reason why Gold should wear riding breeches and boots when he wasn’t riding, but she would be the last one to complain about his choice of clothing. She had had a crush on Ian Gold since she’d been a teenager, and he at the height of his career, before the accident that had shattered his ankle and put an end to his ever riding competitively again. He had rallied, though, and become a trainer, and Belle had worked tirelessly to become a rider good enough to be accepted as one of his students. It took her several years to save up enough money and to acquire a reputation as an up-and-coming rider with enough potential to interest him, and she’d never forget the day she’d arrived at his training centre and met him in person. She’d always found him attractive, but when he looked at her and she received the full focus of his attention, she’d felt herself grow weak in the knees. Her crush and professional admiration of the man had grown steadily into something much deeper and stronger over the course of that first year, but it wasn’t until partway through her second year under his tutelage that he’d admitted his feelings for her went beyond friendship as well. By that time her ranking in the sport had already risen, and she was regularly finishing in the top spots in competitions. She’d finished out the year as his student, and started the next one as his lover. He’d continued to mentor her, however, and it was thanks to his help in finding Chip for her that she’d found herself here five years later, riding in her first Olympic Games. If only she hadn’t screwed it up.

“Yeah. Feeling a little disappointed in myself. If I hadn’t dropped my whip, I know I could have gotten him over the water jump, and the triple as well. We might have made it to into the second round tomorrow.”

“it happens to the best of us,” he said sympathetically.

“I know, and it’s silly, but…I feel like I wouldn’t mind as much if we didn’t make it through because I misjudged the strides in between two fences, or I cut a corner too sharply because I was trying to save time. Not that we didn’t make it because I was _clumsy_. And then I couldn’t tell my stupid horse when he needed to make a little extra effort.”

Her tone of voice made it clear that she was upset at herself, not Chip, but Gold spoke sharply. “Are you telling me that you don’t think he tried?”

Belle hesitated, remembering the feel of Chip’s body stretching out over the water; they’d only had that one hoof on the tape. “No,” she admitted. “I know he tried. A lot of people had trouble at the water, including more experienced horses than he is. And the triple oxer – well, it was a triple, and a bloody high one, and that hard rattle he gave the rail on the second fence threw his stride off just enough that we brought the rail down on the last. There just wasn’t the time or space to regather ourselves. Is that what you want to hear?” she asked wryly. “That I rode well but it just wasn’t enough?”

“You said it yourself.” He smiled. “Luck always does play a small part out there. That rail you rattled hard stayed up, the one you hit more lightly didn’t.”

“Hmph. I blame him _entirely_ for pulling the vertical down, though. Silly bugger’s always too distracted by the crowd.” It was always a problem with the jumps located closest to the cheering crowd in the stands.

“It’s your job to keep him focused,” Gold retorted.

“See?” she asked triumphantly. “It’s my fault; I knew it.” She realised she no longer felt upset, however. She – _they_ had done their best, and hopefully they would have another chance in four years’ time to do better.

“You’re right. You’re a terrible rider; I should probably punish you for being so clumsy.” The minute the words were out of his mouth, the whole atmosphere around them changed. His voice dropped in pitch as he leaned over the stall door. “Or maybe you need a lesson on keeping focused. Would you like that, Belle? Do you need a refresher course on how to get your mount to pay attention to you?”

Belle’s eyes widened, and she ran her tongue over her lips as she turned to look at him. “What do you have in mind?”

“Be in my room in fifteen minutes or less,” he said roughly. “Bring your whip.”

And with that he turned and strode out of the stables, leaving Belle staring after him. She turned back to her stallion. “I think tonight is going to get interesting, Chip. Get some rest and I’ll see you in the morning.” She brought his head down to place a kiss on his velvety-soft muzzle. Quickly she put away the brush she’d been using and exited the stall, making sure it was securely latched behind her. She reached into her tack trunk and pulled out her riding crop, two feet of slim leather-covered rod with a handle on one end and a flat, rectangular tongue of leather on the other. She left the stables with the excitement of the unknown already pooling between her legs.

Gold was waiting for her in his room, his shirt half-unbuttoned, his legs stretched out before him as he sprawled back in the room’s armchair. He held out his hand.

“Whip,” he said without preamble.

Belle handed it over, already imagining the feel of the leather running over her body. He wouldn’t hurt her; she knew that, no more than she would hurt Chip when she used the crop to urge him over a jump. But it held so very many possibilities. A lesson in paying attention, he’d said. Well, he certainly had hers right now.

He ran his fingers up and down the length of the riding crop, slapping the smooth, oiled leather tongue gently against the palm of his hand, before meeting her eyes with an enigmatic smile. “Strip.”

Heart thrumming, she sat down on the edge of the bed. “Help me with my boots?” She extended a booted foot towards him. When he’d tugged them off she stood and began to undress, soon realising that he had no intention of doing the same. A feeling of aroused vulnerability swept over her when she stood naked before him, awaiting further instructions.

“On your hands and knees,” he said softly, standing up. “No, wait – “ He disappeared into the bathroom and came back with one of the thick bath towels, which he spread out on the floor. “Okay, down on that.” Belle sank down onto the towel, settling on all fours and glancing up at him. “Now, pretend you’re a young horse, who has never seen a whip. What should I do?”

“Show it to me,” she said. “Tell me it’s nothing to be afraid of.”

Gold used the crop to push her French braid to one side. “Are you afraid of it?”

Belle swallowed. “No, I trust you. But I’m nervous. I don’t know what it is, what it’s for.”

“What should I do?”

“Run it over my body, lightly. Get me used to it.”

He ran the leather tongue over her shoulder, and followed the path of her spine downwards. “Like this?” he asked, brushing it over the curve of her buttocks.

“Yes.” She dropped her head, pushed back into the teasing caress. It went down the backs of her thighs, over her calves, back up the fronts of her legs as he circled round to her other side. Her muscles drew in convulsively as he played it over her belly, and she gave a soft gasp.

“Steady,” he murmured softly, repeating the motion. “It won’t hurt you.” He flicked the whip lightly over her mons, and she instinctively arched her back and shifted her stance, her legs widening slightly. He promptly ran the slim, hard rod of the shaft up between her thighs, pushing them further apart. “That’s right, that’s good. Legs apart, stay like that.”

Belle moaned as he drew the leather over her cleft, feeling a surge of her juices wetting her lips. Up and down the other leg he went, and over her buttock to the small of her back.

“Good strong haunches,” he said. “I like that in a mare.”

She responded to the note of praise in his voice, stretching out her body, lifting her head, _posing_ for him, for Christ’s sake. Goosebumps sprang up on her skin as he flicked the leather over her ribs, and around beneath her belly again. When it touched the undersides of her breasts, she bit down on another moan, reminding herself that hotel walls were not particularly thick. 

“Sensitive. That’s good, too.” He dragged the end of the crop over her nipples, feeling it catch and drag as they swelled and stiffened. He moved in closer, using the shaft to push at them, watching her whole body shift and undulate as her breathing quickened. “Are you getting used to the whip?” He moved on, pulling it away from her breasts and trailing it up her arm to her shoulder.

“Yes, but you should swing it a bit more,“ she said huskily. “Get me used to that. And harder, hard enough that I’ll feel it if I’m not paying attention.” Her whole skin was tingling from the teasing, too light touches. She felt desperate for something more. “Wake me up if I’m being sluggish – oh!”

The crop landed smartly without warning on her butt, not hurting, but definitely causing her whole backside to jolt forwards instinctively. “Yes, like –” She gasped again as another blow landed with a soft popping sound.

“Still skittish,” Gold observed, his own voice going gravelly. “We’ll have to work on that.” He swung the crop along her side, barely brushing against her ribs but causing her to flinch anyway. “Steady, steady.’ He swung it up under her belly, her back arching as her stomach muscles clenched. He lightly rubbed the shaft against her skin until she relaxed again, then drew his wrist back and swung the crop up smartly below her belly button.

Belle moaned, her body unsure whether to press into the whip or pull away from it. It came again, the flat leather end teasing at the juncture of her thighs and she automatically shifted her knees further apart, spreading her legs without thought, opening herself up to the crop. Her clit was already swollen and throbbing, and she found herself pushing back in invitation, putting herself on display.

“That’s it, soften yourself,” he purred, running the shaft up and down the insides of her thighs. “You’re paying attention now, aren’t you? You’re waiting for a command, wanting to please me.” He moved back behind her and flicked the crop against the sensitive spot just behind her entrance and heard her whimper, her hips canting backwards in supplication. Obligingly he teased her there for a minute, quick little taps with the leather tongue soon having her undulating beneath his ministrations. He could see her wetness, and dragged the crop up through her nether lips to flick at her clit, and was rewarded by another desperate sound spilling from her lips. He shifted back to stroke the slopes of her breasts.

“Kneel up,” he said, moving to stand in front of her.

Belle obeyed, seeing at once the long, rigid shape of him straining at his breeches. She licked her lips.

“Like what you see?” he asked roughly.

“Very much.”

“Want to see more?”

“Yes, please.” Uncertain what to do with her hands, she put them behind her back, the position thrusting her breasts out.

Gold unbuttoned his shirt the rest of the way and opened his breeches, pulling his cock out, the veins already popping beneath the skin. He took the crop in hand again and ran the smooth leather up and down his shaft, sucking in his breath at the sensation and very much aware of her fixed gaze. He moved forward until he could rub himself against her lips.

Belle didn’t need asking, she took him into her mouth hungrily, sucking and lapping at the thick head. His fingers curled in her hair briefly, then he stepped back all too soon with an “Enough.” Reluctantly she let him slide out of her mouth.

“You’ll get it back soon enough, I promise. But I’m not done with you.” His eyes swept over the exposed expanse of her breasts and belly and he dragged the crop over her nipples, first one then the other, coming at them from all directions, a steady, relentless, insistent licking that soon had Belle squirming.

“Please,” she begged, desperate for something harder. Her nipples stood out stiffly, the skin all around them puckered and tight. The sudden quick spank of the leather square caused her hips to jerk forward again, a white-hot burst of pleasure shooting straight to her core as blood and sensation rushed to her already swollen nipple. Two more slaps and it was throbbing and achingly hard. He switched to the other breast and she felt her cunt clench convulsively as he repeated the treatment, then reversed direction and came down on her nipples from another angle, her juices gushing out of her as she cried out, thrusting out her chest.

“A crop is an aid, but it’s just one of many,” Gold said, his own breath coming fast as his cock responded to the sight of Belle writhing in arousal. “What are your others?” He moved around behind her again, tapping her shoulders with a “down”, and she promptly dropped back to all fours again. Gold trailed the crop down her spine to her butt, slapped her flesh again with a noise meant more to startle than anything else. Her skin barely tinged with pink before the colour faded again.

“My legs,” she said breathlessly, and felt him straddle her body, his booted legs pressing in close to her hips and thighs, trapping her snugly in between.

“What else?” He wrapped his hand around her thick braid and tugged gently, Belle rising up onto her knees perforce. He put the crop between his teeth and cupped her breasts, kneading the soft flesh.

“My…my hands,” she gasped, almost sobbing with relief to finally have his hands on her. He rolled her nipples between fingers and thumbs and she let her head fall back in bliss.

“Good hands are important,” he agreed. “Name a third.” He released one breast and took hold of the crop again, reversing it to push the handle between her folds.

Belle could barely think, her body instantly tightening around the invading leather. “My…my seat.”

“Very good.” He pushed the handle up deep inside her. “Do you want this? Should I fuck you with it?”

“Yes!” She groaned in relief as he drove the crop in and out of her. It wasn’t thick enough to satisfy, but she clenched hungrily at it, rocking her hips to help get it where she wanted it. Gold’s hand stilled but she didn’t care, rising and falling as she worked herself on the shaft. He pulled it back out after a minute but before she could protest he angled it slightly forward to hit the front wall of her vagina and Belle instantly grabbed his wrist and stilled it.

“There. Right there.”

Gold thrust the crop into her, her juices running out of her and down the handle onto his fingers. He wrapped his free arm around her hips, drawing her back tight against him and trapping his hot, hard cock between their bodies. “Is this enough?” he asked, rocking against her back. 

“No!” Her whole body was singing with arousal, but she needed something more to push her over the edge. 

He angled his free hand up to play with her breast and tug at her nipple. “How about this?” He ran his tongue along her earlobe. 

“Ian!” Her hips rotated desperately, her climax just out of reach.

“Touch yourself.” His breathing was rough as he thought that he had never seen anything as beautiful as Belle in his arms begging for release, her body strung taut as a wire.

Her clit was distended and hard beneath her finger; it only took a minute of brushing over the top of the sensitised flesh before Belle opened her mouth in a silent scream as her climax washed over her, her body stiffening until it passed and she fell back forward onto her hands, Ian shifting back quickly and keeping the crop from catching on the floor. He continued to slide it in and out slowly, until she let out an all-encompassing sigh of satisfaction. He straightened, leaving the crop inside her.

“Don’t let that fall out.” He saw her muscles flex in answer, her hips pushing back out at him. 

“It’s not enough,” Belle protested, circling her hips experimentally, the movement of the whip outside her body causing it to shift inside her in a teasing, too-light caress. “I need _you_.”

“I’m glad you feel that way. Because I’m about to fuck you so hard you see stars.” He gave himself a few swift jerks, nearly coming from the long awaited contact, and dropped to his knees behind her. He’d need a hand up afterwards, but at the moment he couldn’t care less. Belle looked back over her shoulder at him as his stiffly bobbing cock brushed against her buttocks. He pulled the crop free and used some of the fluids clinging to it to coat his own shaft, before lining himself up with Belle’s entrance and pushing just a little ways inside, feeling her stretch around him. “Is this what you want?” he asked roughly.

“God, yes!”

He grabbed her by the hips and sheathed himself in one thrust, Belle glorying in the feeling of finally being filled. She arched her back and her muscles clamped down hard on him as his cock hit the exact same spot that he’d found with the crop, loving the feeling of his body covering hers and his balls swinging against her as he leaned forward, his arms braced on either side of her. 

He was too aroused to last for long, and he knew it. He took her with hard, fast, short thrusts, his hair falling forward over his face, knowing that she was chasing another orgasm by the way she was pushing back against him. When she stiffened and spasmed around him he came in a rush of ecstasy, collapsing afterwards and pulling her down with him as he spooned up against her from behind. Belle moved aside the discarded crop as she stretched out on her side, grimacing at the feel of the sticky film on the handle. She sucked some of it off, then tried to rub it clean on the towel that they lay upon

“If this is stained, you owe me a new crop,” she said.

“Worth it,” he said contentedly, his face buried in her hair. “We can keep that one in our bedroom.”

“Mm.” She turned in his arms, spreading his open shirt wide and rubbing the crop on his bare chest. His eyes opened as she used it to tease at his nipples, his back arching slightly in response.

“I could try it on you” she suggested, trailing it down to play over his spent cock.

“Yes,” he said breathlessly, feeling himself twitch with interest. Belle’s smile was predatory. “So, are you feeling better, then?” 

She had to think for a moment what he meant. “Oh. Yeah, I’m feeling better. I rode in the Olympics; how many people can say that? And hopefully I’ll have another chance in four years. And with another four years of experience, Chip'll be at the top of his game. Besides –” She lay the crop down and cupped the side of his face in her hand, sliding her fingers up into his silky hair. “I may not have won anything out there, but I’ve definitely gold medalled in the boyfriend category.”

Gold’s face twisted wryly. “I feel a bit too old to be called a boyfriend.”

“Well, what should I call you? My manfriend?”

“God, no, that sounds horrible.”

“Partner?”

“Yes, partners always, and lovers and friends and –” His tongue came out to wet his lips nervously. It was the perfect opening, even if not quite the situation he’d imagined asking it in. “Maybe… fiancé?”

Belle sat up abruptly, her eyes going round. “Are you – ?”

Gold pushed himself up into a sitting position as well. “I’d planned to ask this in a beautiful, romantic setting, but you gave me the perfect opening. “ He took her hand in his. “Belle, will you marry me? Will you do me the honour of being my wife?”

Her eyes shining, she threw herself at him, wrapping him up in an exuberant hug. “Yes! I would love to marry you.”

“I’ve got a ring and everything,” he said, eagerly. “Want to see it?”

“Yes!” She scrambled to her feet, and held out her hand to help pull him up. While he went and rummaged in his luggage, she pulled her shirt back on to lend a modicum of dignity to the occasion.

“I thought you might like to pick one out yourself, but I wanted to have something symbolic to give you,” he explained, coming back with a small box. “You can pick out something fancier for the wedding ring.” He opened the box and took out a ring. “It’s white gold.”

“It’s perfect,” said Belle, holding out her hand for him to slide the ring onto her finger. It was a simple, clean design, one that she would always like and would go with anything, she thought. “I love it. And I love you.” She pulled him in close, wrapping her arms around him as she kissed him, feeling his hands settle at her waist and keep her snugged in close. When the kiss ended, she pulled back and grinned.

“Fiancé. I like the sound of that. I guess you could say I went to the Olympics and won Gold after all.”


End file.
